


The Good Ole Days

by Fuckboy Phoebus (Grasshopper_Jungle)



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Group Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Platonic Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reunion Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, blood rite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:45:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grasshopper_Jungle/pseuds/Fuckboy%20Phoebus
Summary: "It is also only natural to consummate a reunion with sex, in a completely platonic way. That's what friends do."Cassian reminiscences about his reunion with Rhysand and Azriel after the Blood Rite.





	The Good Ole Days

**Author's Note:**

> Rhysand/Azriel/Cassian needs more love. Wrote this at around 5am a few days ago, and I've grown tired of tinkering with it. Of course my first ACOTAR fic is porn (I've also never posted my porn before - whoo). I have zero idea how old they were supposed to be in canon, but for our purposes, they're old enough to consent. 
> 
> Mentions of Nesta/Cassian, Mor/Azriel, and Feyre/Rhysand, but no female characters appear. 100% pure sausage fest, just as God intended. I hope you like it!

Fighting and fucking are Cassian's go-to methods for resolving conflicts, just as one might expect. Sometimes you just need that flood of adrenaline, that endorphin cocktail, yknow? It's only natural-

Such as it is also only natural to consummate a reunion with sex, in a completely platonic way. That's what friends do.

That's what they did before Mor, anyway. Before the 50-year blight, and Feyre Cursebreaker, and Nesta Archeron.

(Cassian can't help but be a little, shall we say, annoyed. But he has his hand around himself now, dredging up memories like roots, digging back to)

Before, before, before. To when they killed across mountains to find each other: the Illyrian bastard, the shadowsinger, and the mutt who was to be the greatest High Lord in history.

Actually, make that the handsomest Illyrian bastard and best shadowsinger the world has ever seen, too. Cassian would hate to be inaccurate. 

Rhys had kissed them first. First Cass and then Azriel, hot, open-mouthed kisses that lasted only a second but were back just as fast, Rhys's lips attacking their faces and necks, back and forth, as if he couldn't decide who he loved more. His powers were waves of night breaking over them, easily slicing through the ropes binding their wings, wiping the caked blood away. If any stragglers had chanced upon them, they probably would have been torn to pieces before they could even figure out what was commencing behind this curtain of black, but the forest that circled them was filled, somehow, only with the pleasant thrills of birds. Rhysand's magic mixed with the dawn peering cautiously over the horizon, the branching swirls of deep, starry purple slicing the orange light into bars upon their skin. 

They were all wrecks, but it didn't matter, not to any one of them. 

 _"Finally,"_ was all Rhysand murmured into Azriel's shoulder, for no other words needed to be said.

(Cassian bites his lip, considering. Dildo or no? Draw it out, slowly pump himself while he recalls every breathless kiss, every desperate growl, or just jump straight to when Rhys and Azriel had sandwiched his cock between their tongues?

Well, that answers itself, doesn't it?

Cassian yanks the drawer of his nightstand out, spilling toys and thin bottles of lubricant and contraceptive brew onto his bed. Takes his choices, sweeps the rest off to the foot of his bed, along with his sheets. He lets the dildo rest to the side as he slicks his fingers up with lubricant, filling his lungs with the scent of sandalwood. Better than what they'd probably smelled like back then -  the week's carnage, enough to last most men a lifetime or two, probably had them smelling worse than a garbage fire, but they hadn't cared.

He could have sworn the bond between them was as palpable as any mating bond, but - well, he's been wrong before. He wipes the thought clean with a cool, wet hand around his cock, setting his blood aflame as he drags it slowly up his shaft, loosing a sigh.)

Rhys had taken Azriel into his mouth first, pumping the shadowsinger with one hand while his lips enveloped the head of his cock. Cassian had wanted to take Rhys then, fuck him while he was swallowing Azriel's cock, grab him and make him moan as Az's seed coated the back of his throat. But the shadowsinger had thwarted this plan by wrapping his arms around Cassian's neck, pulling their bodies together so roughly he nearly crushed Cass's windpipe.

Az bit him and licked the blood off his lower lip-- Cass reached a hand around and dragged his claws down Az's shoulder blades, right between his wings.

(Cass pumps himself a few more times, his body screaming for a partner, a body to clutch onto, but the room is achingly empty. So he instead trails his hand down his thigh, scratching the places where he wants to feel Az's hands, Rhys's tongue. He doesn't need to prep himself for long anymore- they certainly hadn't done much back then, penetration clumsy and a tad painful with their youth, but it has only made the adrenaline roaring in their blood all the louder.

His cock twitches as he slides two fingers in and begins to scissor.)

Ah, _fuck _._  _Cass felt his body singing at the way Az had arched his back and groaned, his eyelashes wet as he slammed his mouth back onto Cassian’s. Rhys had cracked his eyes open for only a second ere he was drawing back to allow himself survey of the scene, his own sex straining against his clothes as he reached a free hand between Cass's legs, pumping both of his friends in time.

(Cass wraps his other hand around his cock as he grinds into his fingers, slipping in a third, hips bucking as his fingertips brush past a swollen prostate.)

Cass was the one who ended up with someone on both ends- Az in his ass, buried to th--

(Alright, at this point in the story, it's time to stop teasing. Cassian lifts his hips up higher as he slides the dildo, a thick, black silicone specimen, underneath himself, lowering slowly so he can align the head with his entrance. Bending forward, until he sits on his knees as though stride his imaginary lover. 

He takes it all with one swift, smooth motion. As Az had done to him.)

One sharp thrust had buried him in to the hilt, and oh Cauldron, it was perfect, they were perfect, they all were. Even the simple feel of Az's balls pressed against his perineum had felt as natural as air in his lungs, however much Rhys' impressive size conspired to keep him choked.

Cauldron help him. Rhys had held his throat with both hands, firm enough only to feel the racing pulse beneath Cassian's skin as he brutally fucked his general's throat. Cass could only moan for them, scrape his teeth against the High Lord's cock just enough to elicit a hiss, feel Az twitching within him at the sounds.

Az had quickly begun to ramble, words and thrusts each punctuated by a breathless gasp, I missed you so much - Oh Rhys- Oh Cass, you're so  _tight_ \- I love you guys, I was so worried.

And Rhysand, that motherfucker had had the _gall_ to reach across and lay his hands over those gripping Cassian's hips for dear life, comforting one friend while the other's throat still spasmed around his cock.

Cassian had resisted the impulse to bite down, and had instead peeled one hand off Rhys' thighs-- and given his testicles one harsh flick.

_"Shit!"_

And the other two had laughed, as best they could.

Rhys slid out of Cass's mouth with an obscene 'pop', tilting his general's chin up with a finger. "What was that for?" He asked, his annoyed tone contrasted with the amusement dancing in his deep violet eyes.

"I - " Cassian's words were cut off with a groan as the lull in Az's rhythm abruptly ended, resuming with a more even, quick pace to the broken and frantic one he'd been using thus far. 

Now was Rhys's turn to laugh.

"Not helping!" Cass barked.

Slowing, "This is between you and Rhys, not me," between pants, leaning down until his chest was flush with Cass's back, licking long trails between his wings. Cass had felt his chest constricting as his release loomed, but Rhys ignored that entirely. He tilted Cass's head up again, their eyes connecting as the High Lord watched his friends fuck, a breathless tangle of limbs and twitching wings. Cass's arms gave out shortly after, planting his face in the browned grass as Azriel arched, hand clawing long, scarlet streaks along Cass's spine. 

(Cassian whines as the dildo scrapes past his prostate, slamming his hips back until he can feel electricity racing up into his chest.) 

Cauldron, it took him a minute to even register Rhys's warm release pooled upon his back.

With a few more thrusts, Az sheathed himself as far as he could go, straining both of them to the point of pain as he emptied himself inside his friend, falling over with a whimper.

Cassian merely laid there, mouth dry as cotton, cock aching, muscles jelly, his thighs sliding wider with the weight of the shadowsinger bearing down upon him.

Part of him wanted Az to remove himself, allow Cass the feeling of his friend’s warm semen dripping out of him, let them all stare and share in the obvious evidence of their pleasures.

"Did you cum, Cassian?" Came his High Lord's smooth, silvery voice.

Cassian cut a line across his neck a few times, before Az pulled out and collapsed onto his back, wings and limbs splayed out in the dirt.

Cassian fell onto his side, lolling his tongue out with a quiet "bleh" for emphasis. Despite his cock so obviously still swollen against his stomach.

He felt Rhys lay on his own side, bodies abreast as the High Lord kissed along the scarred, golden skin of Cass's shoulder, dark with bruises. The sure knowledge that Cassian had ripped their throats out was probably all that was keeping a territorial edge out of Rhysand’s voice.

"That is not an answer." His words a hot whisper along the shell of Cass's ear.

"No, I didn't," Cassian managed to choke out.

"No, what?"

"No, _asshole."_

Rhys bit into his shoulder, drawing blood; Cass's cock leaked.

(And he cums now with a strangled cry, spilling all over his chest, up to his shoulders, as he remembers what had followed) Rhys's next words: "We'll see if I can't change your tune." (Which, as they both knew, translated also to  _I'm glad to have found you again)._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Edit (7/24/18) -- We're at 69 kudos guys, don't ruin it.   
> Edit (7/27/18) — anon turn on your location


End file.
